


Welcome back

by Signe_chan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire returns from a year studying abroad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome back

Enjolras hadn’t expected to find himself so nervous. A year ago, when Grantaire had left, Enjolras hadn’t even bothered to come along to the airport to see him off. He’d been to the going away party, of course. A friend going to study for a year in New York was worth celebrating, but he hadn’t particularly considered himself a close enough friend to go to the airport. 

Now he stood by with his hands in his pockets. The rest of them were there too, except Feuilly who hadn’t been able to get the shift free. Joly and Jehan had created a banner, a monster of a thing with “Welcome home R” written in sparkly pink letters, and they were all holding it up as Enjolras waited behind them. 

He knew he should just step out and grab a handful of banner, make himself part of the group, but he couldn’t. Not when everything still felt so uncertain. 

The others didn’t pay him much attention. As far as they were concerned, he’d come along as an extra driver. They didn’t know. How could they, when he hadn’t told them? 

And then Grantaire came into view and all nerves were amplified by a thousand. He looked the same, from a distance, as when he’d left. Floppy black hair, green beanie, oversized hoodie, but Enjolras had skyped him often enough to know the subtle ways America had changed him. A little weight gain which was good as Grantaire had always been so thin. A slightly paler tone of skin, a little muscle gain. A light to his eyes that maybe hadn’t quite been there before. 

Then Grantaire saw them and he was grinning and running towards them and Enjolras felt the group leave him in their rush to reach Grantaire. To pull him into their arms and welcome him home. Enjolras followed them, wading into the general crush. 

At first, it was mostly just unpleasant. He stood sandwiched between Courfeyrac and Eponine, listening as everyone yelled questions and welcomes at once. Grantaire was visible only by his hat as he was passed from hug to hug until, suddenly, Courfeyrac was patting Grantaire’s shoulder and welcoming him back and then it was Enjolras’ turn. 

And he didn’t know what to say. 

He’d never been at such a loss for words before, but how did you put into a sentence everything that had happened since he’d last been able to physically see Grantaire. Everything that had passed between them and what the might mean, what he might want it to mean. His fingers twitched to reach, to grab, to confirm the reality of what he was seeing before him. 

He reached out, got as far as brushing his fingers against Grantaire’s sleeve, before they were interrupted. Eponine inserted herself between them, pulling Grantaire into the fierce hug that Enjolras had wanted but hadn’t dared to ask for and the moment was gone again, spinning away into the void and Enjolras could do nothing to stop it. 

From there, things became complicated. 

They all piled into cars and headed for town. Enjolras tried to get Grantaire in his car but Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet grabbed him, made the excuse that they had to drop of his bags before meeting, and were gone. 

From there, he felt almost like fate and his friends were conspiring to keep him away from Grantaire. They kept catching each others eye and Grantaire smiled for him in a way that made Enjolras’ gut tighten but every time he made a move to get closer, someone would intercept him with some urgent business or some politics that needed his opinion and refuse to be moved until they were done. 

And then dinner was over and they were all heading out to their cars. There was an awkward moment where Enjolras caught Grantaire’s hand, their fingers tangling together as though they were made to do just that. But then they were being pulled apart again, shuffled into their own cars and sent on their ways. 

Which was how Enjolras came to be sat alone in his room staring at his laptop. Staring at Skype. Staring at Grantaire’s profile. 

He was being an idiot, he knew he was. Grantaire wouldn't be on becasue he’d be busy with his friends. His real friends, the ones who’d been there for him before he went away. They’d be drinking and laughing and having all kinds of fun that Enjolras wasn’t a part of and that had never bothered him before, not really. 

Only now it kind of did. 

It hadn’t been intentional, nobody had set out to change things between himself and Grantaire. Enjolras had just checked in with Grantaire, just once, to see how he was going in New York. Somehow it had spiraled. Somehow just once became one a week because twice a week became every day and now became this conclusion, Enjolras lying on his bed with his laptop missing Grantaire. 

Grantaire who was a short walk away. 

Enjolras wasn’t sure if his lying here made him a coward, a fool or both. Either way, he didn’t like it. 

He pried himself from the mattress. Found his shoes and slipped them on. The TV was still on in the lounge so he let himself out as quietly as he could. It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid his friends, he just had the strange sense that they’d have tried to stop him and he NEEDED To do this. 

Needed to know that what he and Grantaire had built hadn’t been a lie. 

The walk over passed surprisingly quickly and he soon found himself knocking on the door to the apartment Grantaire shared with Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta. His stomach was full of desperate butterflies who were all trying to fight their ways free. 

It was easy on the internet. Even when it was via Skype, somehow the degree of separation made it easier to open up and say something. Much easier than in real life. In real life he could talk for hours about workers rights and wage gaps and the heteronormative patriarchy of the system but when it came to things like ‘I actually like you a lot’ his throat seemed to freeze. 

Only now he couldn’t afford for that to happen becasue the door was opening. 

Joly stood there, blinking at Enjolras as though he’d expected almost anyone else to be stood there. 

“What’s wrong? Is there a protest we missed? Is there a riot?” 

“Why do you think that me showing up means there’s a riot?” 

“Well, normally it does.” 

“That was one time.” 

“Twice.” 

“Twice,” Enjolras admitted with a wince. “But there’s no protest tonight. I just want to talk to Grantaire.” 

Joly glanced over his shoulder then slowly shuffled out of the door, letting it shut behind him. Enjolras stepped back to make space for him, frowning. 

“Joly…” 

“Look. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to explain this but...before he went to New York, Grantaire was in love with you. But you never looked at him twice. And then he went away and since he did he seems to have been getting better. We talked and we think he’s getting over you and the last thing we want, now he’s come back, is for him to fall for you again and be right back where he was a year ago.” 

“Oh,” Enjolras said. That did, at least, confirm that they had been actively trying to keep him away from Grantaire and he hadn’t been imagining things. It was also kind of sweet in a way. Misguided but sweet. 

“So you see…” 

The door opened, flooding the area with light, and Grantaire was there in the doorway, ruffled and loose and beautiful. 

“Hey Joly, what…” he trailed of, then if anyone his grin seemed to grow wider. “Hey. I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.” 

“I needed to talk to you. I didn’t...I meant to say something earlier but…” 

“But every time you turned around there was someone there between us. I know. I noticed that too.” 

“Ooops,” Joly said, under his breath. 

“I just needed you to know I haven’t changed my mind. I mean, what we’ve been talking about.”

“How are you so eloquent at a meeting and like this in person.” 

“It’s a skill.” 

“I’ll say,” Grantaire said with grin. He lent forward and took Enjolras’s hand and Enjolras felt like his skin was in fire when they touched. He couldn’t help but sway into the contact. “For the record, I haven’t changed my mind either.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Then Grantaire was stepping close and it was easy to drop his hand, to bring both arms up to wind around him and pull him close. And hugging Grantaire was just as awesome as he’d thought it was going to be. Just as warm and comfortable and a million times better in real life than seeing the words typed on the screen. He held on as tight as he could, closing his eyes and burying his face in Grantaire’s curls. 

Then Grantaire was pulling back just enough to line their lips up together and kissing him and this was even better. This was everything Enjolras had been thinking about in his absent daydreams for months. Well, not everything, but a good start on it. 

They pulled apart after a little while, lent their foreheads together and just breathed the same air. Because they could now. Because they were together again, finally. 

“Oh,” Joly said, and Enjolras frowned at the reminder that he was still there. “This makes so much more sense. You wait until I tell Bossuet and Musichetta.” 

And Grantaire laughed, a breathy laugh that puffed onto Enjolras’s lips and Enjolras smiled into it, enjoyed the raw physicality of it. Then he lent forward, reclaiming Grantaire’s lips and going back to a place where he forgot Joly existed. 

After all, he didn’t care who knew. He’d finally found home.


End file.
